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Lyrics by John B Tabb
Tabb, John B. (1845-1909)
[section]
TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER.
CHERRY BLOOM.
DAWN.
ECHO.
MORNING AND NIGHT BLOOM.
EXALTATION.
HAZARD.
THE YOUNG TENOR.
FRATERNITY.
MY MESSMATE.
“VOX CLAMANTIS.”
NIAGARA.
THE BRIDGE.
THE STATUE.
THE SEED.
THE TREE.
THE SISTERS.
THE GOSSIP.
THE TOLLMEN.
THE PINE-TREE.
TRANSFIGURED.
ANONYMOUS.
MIDNIGHT.
INSOMNIA.
PAIN.
SYMPATHY.
MEMORY.
LIVERY.
SLUMBER-SONG.
THE SUPPLIANT.
RELEASED.
WRECKED.
GONE.
AGAINST THE SKY.
ILLUSION.
SUNSET AT SEA.
INTERPRETED.
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS.
OFF SAN SALVADOR.
A SIGH OF THE SEA.
SHELL-TINTS.
THE LOST ANCHOR.
THE SEA-BUBBLE.
DE PROFUNDIS.
ALTER IDEM
FROM PARADISE.
SELECTION.
MAIDEN BLOOM.
THE RAIN AND THE DEW.
THE SHOWER.
RESIGNATION.
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.
CLEOPATRA TO THE ASP.
ADIEU.
ASLEEP.
IN SOLITUDE.
UNHEEDED.
ALL IN ALL.
THE DEWS.
THE LIFE-TIDE.
ONSET.
TO A BLIND BABE, SLEEPING.
FORESHADOWED.
SUSPENSE.
IMMORTALITY.
SECURITY.
PILGRIMS.
IN THE DEATH CHAMBER.
THE DEPARTED.
THE FOUNDLING.
RETROSPECT.
REFLECTION.
COMMUNION.
TRANSFIGURATION.
BREAD.
SAND.
THE MARSH.
BEACON LIGHTS.
OUTSPEEDED.
THE SIREN STREAM TO THE OUTCAST.
AT LAST.
THE PILGRIM.
MY GUIDE.
GIULIO.
BETRAYED.
THE FIRST SNOW-FALL.
AN INTERVIEW.
ANTICIPATION.
THE TRYST OF SPRING.
ONE APRIL MORN.
AN APRIL PRAYER.
AN AUTUMN LEAF.
MATER DOLOROSA.
INDIAN SUMMER.
OCTOBER.
FROM THE UNDERGROUND.
THE SNOWDROP.
WIND-FLOWERS.
AN APRIL BLOOM.
PEACH BLOOM.
MIGNONETTE.
CLOVER.
IMMORTELLES.
SONG OF THE MORNING-GLORIES.
“CONSIDER THE LILIES.”
TO A WOOD-VIOLET.
A LOTUS BLOOM.
A RUBRIC.
THE SNOW-BIRD.
TO THE WOOD-ROBIN.
THE DEAD THRUSH.
CHRISTMAS.
THE LAMB-CHILD.
THE ANGEL'S CHRISTMAS QUEST.
RESTRAINT.
GLORIA IN EXCELSIS.
ON CALVARY.
TO THE CRUCIFIX.
STABAT MATER.
EASTER EVE.
EASTER MORNING.
EASTER FLOWERS.
GOD.
TENEBRÆ.
DEUS ABSCONDITUS.
GOD'S LIKENESS.
MY MEDIATOR.
THE SONG OF THE MAN.
CHARITY
FULFILMENT.
ON SEA AND LAND.
STILLING THE TEMPEST.
THE POSTULANT.
PURGATORY.
BETTER.
LONE-LAND.
QUATRAINS.
SONNETS.
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Lyrics by John B Tabb
27
MEMORY.
Lo
, the Blossom to the Bee
Yields not more than thou to me—
Food for Love to live upon
When the summer days are gone,
Poorer than they came, to find
What was sweetest, left behind.
Lyrics by John B Tabb
